eet abroad, and Guy will
_do_ _it_.'

'That won't do. Philip will never endanger his precious life, nor ever
forgive Guy the obligation. Well, I suppose there never was a prettier
wedding--how silly of me to say so, I shall be sick of hearing it before
night.'

'I do wish all these people were gone; I did not know it would be so
horrid. I should like to shut myself up and cry, and think what I could
ever do to wait on you. Indeed, Charlie, I know I never can be like Amy
but if you--'

'Be anything but sentimental; I don't want to make a fool of myself'
said Charles, with a smile and tone as if he was keeping sorrow at bay.
'Depend upon it if we were left to ourselves this evening, we should be
so desperately savage that we should quarrel furiously, and there would
be no Amy to set us to rights.'

'How Aunt Charlotte did cry! What a funny little woman she is.'

'Yes, I see now who you take after, puss. You'll be just like her when
you are her age.'

'So I mean to be,--I mean to stay and take care of you all my life, as
she does of grandmamma.'

'You do, do you?'

'Yes. I never mean to marry, it is so disagreeable. O dear! But how
lovely dear Amy did look.'

'Here's the rain!' exclaimed Charles, as some large drops began to fall
in good time to prevent them from being either savage or sentimental,
though at the expense of Charlotte's pink and white; for they had no
umbrella, and she would not accept a share of Charles's carriage-cloak.
She laughed, and drove on fast through the short cut, and arrived at the
house-door, just as the pelting hail was over, having battered her thin
sleeves, and made her white bonnet look very deplorable. The first thing
they saw was Guy, with Bustle close to him, for Bustle had found out
that something was going on that concerned his master, and followed him
about more assiduously than ever, as if sensible of the decree, that he
was to be left behind to Charlotte's care.

'Charlotte, how wet you are.'

'Never mind, Charlie is not.' She sprung out, holding his hand, and
felt as if she could never forget that moment when her new brother first
kissed her brow.

'Where's Amy?'

'Here!' and while Guy lifted Charles out, Charlotte was clasped in her
sister's arms.

'Are you wet, Charlie?'

'No, Charlotte would not be wise, and made me keep the cloak to myself.'

'You are wet through, poor child; come up at once, and change,' said
Amy, flying nimbly up the stairs,--up even to